The lightest ‘boop’ on the nose.
From this list ^,^ How about some background for Syble and Dvasia?
A faint vibration went through Syble as she relaxed in her quarters, one that predicted she’d soon be getting a visitor. Sure enough, it was only moments before she heard a soft knock at her door.
“Akirsera?” The door opened a crack and a wide eye the color of moonlight peeked through. “Are you there?”
“Yes Dvasia, come in.”
The young silver Cathar opened the door further, peering around with respectful curiosity. No shyness in this one, Syble chuckled to herself as she motioned for Dvasia to come closer. It was one of the traits that the Sith Pureblood had discovered in her ward, along with a fierce determination and thirst for knowledge. Had she attended the Sith Academy she would’ve been a delight to her her instructors.
“Is something troubling you little dis?”
“The buzzing is back,” she explained and Syble nodded.
“New slaves. I’m sure there’s a new pecking order being established in the pens.”
“It’s so…” Dvasia looked skyward, contemplating, “Obnoxious?”
Syble chuckled aloud and nodded again, “Yes, I’m certain it is.”
Looking pleased that she’d used the proper word, Dvasia stepped towards Syble. “It’s quieter in here.”
The unspoken question in the Cathar’s moonlight eyes had Syble holding back a smile. “Would you like to stay here again?”
Dvasia nodded emphatically, “Yes, please!”
“Very well.”
Syble stood to slide a narrow cot from underneath her bed then smiled gently as she watched the young Cathar snuggle into the blankets. Her wide pale eyes started closing almost instantly, attesting to how exhausted the kit was and Syble sighed as she sat on the edge of the cot.
“Come to me sooner,” she instructed as she stroked the soft sand-colored mane. “Don’t wait until you’re ready to fall over.”
“Yes, Akirsera. I just don’t…” the kit yawned hugely. “Don’t want to get you in trouble.”
“Trouble?” Syble laughed and lightly booped Dvasia’s nose. “Who would I be in trouble with?”
“With Doran.” Dvasia opened her eyes but yawned again. “Don’t want him to yell at you. He yells at all the slaves.”
“I’m no slave,” she stated, affronted at the idea. “He doesn’t own me.”
Weariness still filled Dvasia’s eyes, but she peered at the Pureblood curiously. “Then why do you stay?”
“Because…” Syble paused. “Well… it’s complicated.” She booped the Cathar’s nose again, “Too complicated to discus now. You, get some sleep. I’ll check on the pens then be back, alright.”
“Yes Akirsera,” she mumbled sleepily.
Syble stroked the kit’s mane gently, waiting for her to fall asleep before she stood again and walked to her door. She glanced back at the scars along Dvasia’s cheek, her fingers unconsciously gliding over the implants gilding her own red skin.
“Because I have no where to go,” she whispered, answering her ward’s question before pledging. “But I’ll find one, for both of us.”












